Parshas Beshalach

Seamless Song

In the aftermath of the Parting of the Sea, the Jews burst forth in Shira
(song). As we have explained in past issues, Shira is a unique form of
song, an exclusive type of praise. As Rashi in Bereshis 32:27 referenced
from the Talmud in tractate Chulin and the Mechilta regarding the angel of
Eisav, “Let me leave because it is my turn to say Shira.” Angels sing
Shira while humans merely sing. On the shores of the Yam Suf (Red Sea),
led by Moshe and Miriam, the Jewish nation sang Shira!

Shira is a form of song and praise that emanates from the being of a
person or entity that is 100% subjugated to Hashem (G-d). It presumes an
integration of every element in concert with the will of G-d. It demands a
singularity of understanding that existence and purpose are one and the
same. To exist means to do as G-d intended. It is a realization that
suspends the option of freewill so that for all intents and purposes, a
human is catapulted to the level of angel. When and if this should happen
the being does not choose to say Shira; instead, Shira erupts
spontaneously in response to simply existing.

It is not intended that humans sing Shira. The greatness and uniqueness of
humanity is the gift and challenge of freewill. Through freewill, we are
the recipients of Torah and through freewill, we have the ability to
ascend higher than the angels. As such, Shira is almost impossible for a
human to attain, and once attained it is impossible to sustain.

Everyone wonders how the Jews were able to sin after witnessing the
spectacles of Exodus, Kriyas Yam Suf (Parting of the Sea), and Matan Torah
(Revelation).

We attempt to understand how someone like Bilam, a man gifted and
therefore potentially worthy of prophecy akin to that of Moshe, could
choose to do evil, could elect to go against G-d’s wishes.

The last Parshios explained that the “hardening of Pharaoh’s heart” was
the means for G-d’s greater revelation. That means that if not for G-d
interfering with Pharaoh’s freewill, the Jews would have been set free
after the sixth plague of Shechin – boils. Nevertheless, it took six
plagues and untold physical and economic devastation for Pharaoh to accept
the inevitability of G-d’s intention to free the Jews.

Freewill is who and what we are. The only way that can change is if we die
or if G-d chooses for His own exclusive purposes to interfere with it;
otherwise, to be human means to struggle all the time with the demands of
freewill. Regardless of who we are and who we become, freewill is our most
defining human characteristic. Do we do as we wish or do we subject
ourselves to G-d’s demands? The Jews in the aftermath of all the miracles
of Exodus and beyond still had freewill. Bilam in the aftermath of
prophecy still had freewill. Pharaoh up until the sixth plague still had
freewill. Therefore, anything could still happen including going against
G-d’s wishes and intentions. Obviously, each case is different. Each
person is the product of his or her own history and challenges and what
motivates one person to rebel against the obvious truth of G-d is not
what motivates another to do the same; however, they all have in common
that without freewill they could not have chosen to rebel.

Angels can sing Shira whenever it is their designated time to do so
because they are the pure and absolute reflections of G-d’s will. They do
not have freewill in the manner that provides for the possibility of not
doing as G-d demands. Therefore, they exist on the level of Shira at all
times. The only restriction to angels singing Shira is G-d’s will, as to
when each angel is to sing the Shira of its being. Humans on the other
hand are able to experience G-d in a manner that momentarily overwhelms
the challenge of freewill with the irrefutable evidence of G-d’s absolute
existence. (Eg. The Bnai Yisroel (Sons of Israel) at the time of Eliyahu
at Mt. Carmel and what we aspire to attain at the end of Yom Kippur.) At
such times, Shira in some form or another, is inevitable. However, a
moment later the evidence of G-d’s absoluteness recedes into the realm of
memory and freewill reasserts itself. Sin is once again a possibility and
Shira is not.

Starting with the first day of Chol Hamoed Pesach, (intermediary days of
Passover), we no longer say the full Hallel (a selection of Psalms
called "Praise"); instead, we say ˝ Hallel. The reason for doing so is the
famous Medresh that describes G-d’s reaction to the drowning of the
Egyptians. “My creations are drowning in the sea and you wish to sing
Shira?” In truth we should answer "Yes! We do wish to sing Shira! The
drowning of the Egyptians in the sea once again reaffirms Your greatness
of compassion and justice as elemental to the existence of the universe.
Even the destruction of Your greatest creation (human) is cause for
singing Shira when it so clearly fits into the absolutes of our faith and
practice!" However, to sing Shira under such conditions presumes that we
are on the level of angels. It presumes that our entire beings are
subjugated to G-d’s will and integrated with the essence of His Oneness.
It assumes that we live within a seamless tapestry of revelation and
existence. Unfortunately or fortunately that is not the assumed human
condition. Our lot is to always struggle toward absolute subjugation and
integration. What was realized a moment ago as truth and certainty is the
challenge of here and now; therefore, we cannot say the full Hallel. We
must accept the limitations of our humanness and feel the pain of loss and
the destruction of potential. We cannot fully sing Shira.

Shira brings to mind the imagery of a symphony. Different instruments,
notes, and talents integrated into a seamless orchestrated opus. If any
one instrument or note is off, the composition’s perfection is
compromised. The untrained public ear may not notice the flaw; however,
the trained critic and certainly the conductor will note the musical
imperfection. Correcting the mistake involves one of two possibilities. 1.
Give the musician another chance to do it correctly. 2. Remove the less
than perfect musician and hire another to do the job. We would like to
hope for the first; however, the conductor may know that the first is not
an option, and for the sake of the symphony, go with option #2.

At the end of this week’s Parsha, Amalek attacked Am Yisroel. Led by
Yehoshua (Joshua - a paradigm of singular subjugation and integration),
the Bnai Yisroel were victorious. G-d said to Moshe that Amalek will one
day be eradicated because, (17:16) “…For the hand is on the throne of
G-d…” Rashi explains from the Tanchumah that G-d swore that He would
destroy Amalek because His Name and throne are not complete so long as
Amalek exists. (That is why the word for “ throne – Kais” is written
without an Aleph.)

Amalek proved to be the one musician and instrument unwilling to follow
the Conductor. Instead of being subject to G-d and seeking seamless
integration with His wishes and intentions, Amalek decided to rebel. The
symphony was flawed and the opus compromised. We are told that in the
aftermath of the Exodus, the entire world stood in united awe of G-d. No
one doubted that the Jews were G-d’s Chosen, and no one dared to challenge
His sovereignty – except Amalek. As such, G-d had to choose one of two
options. 1. Give Amalek a chance to do Teshuvah and become a willing
participant in the divine composition of existence; or 2. Remove Amalek
from humanity because G-d knows that Teshuvah is not a possibility. G-d
chose the second because He knew that Amalek would not do Teshuvah. G-d
knows that Amalek will never willingly choose to be integrated in single
devotion and commitment to His wishes with the rest of humanity. (Another
way of describing the times of Mashiach and Redemption.) G-d knows that so
long as Amalek exists, humanity as a whole will not be able to sing
Shira.